Now don't forget where we were. Clyde had gotten the giggles which impairs his ability to navigate and I was saying, "Dang it Clyde! Stop that. You can't spend all day down there in the rabbit poop."

We were trying to get back up that slope, on the way back home, arm in arm like two drunks weaving and laughing and not making much progress. Even though I could get us pointed in the right direction, most of the time, I was getting weak myself.

Think of it like it's a movie. We are headed back up the hill but the camera stays behind and as we get smaller the sound fades also. Clyde is saying, "What a team, you and me! I could be the Lonesome Ranger and you could be Tonto."

I was telling him that I don't really have all that much Cherokee Indian in me and besides that, the word "tonto" is Spanish for stupid and I don't want to be his Faithful Indian Companion, Stupid. So we lost about five feet of forward progress right there just because he thought it was a bit humorous. But we kept pluggin' on.

I said "No, this is better: You can be King Arthur and Pretty Baby can be Gwenevere. I can be Lancelot."

"Oh no you don't! I know what those two did!"

We are getting smaller now. Adobe is running ahead and lifting his leg here and there like boy dogs do.

Clyde says, "Besides, I know you would really like to use your lance a lot! Har har Murphh mphh." Crash!

"Dang if Clyde! Stop that. We should try to get back before the sun goes down. Wait a minute. I need a rest."

"Wal, don't sit in that rabbit poop."

"'Taint rabbit. It's lizard!"

We are over the top and out of sight now. The sun is low. Even from that far away, you hear a little crash.

"Dang it Clyde!"

Emo
Reporting from Fort Mudge, Idaho

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Hey, I must of done 'er wrong again! Nobody knows this stuff is here? I woulda sworn that people would like these stories, they got great response over at the Nlist (a defunct email outfit). Phoo. Six people reading is all ? And here I wrote a new one that nobody has ever seen. It is based on a story found in my great grandfather's obituary, about his horse ending up on somebody's porch and they couldn't get him off. Think how old that story must be. I'm seventy four.

Emo, my friend....please don't stop writing your tales. With the Nlist laid to rest, this is now the place where your stories can live forever...and not get lost in personal computer crashes! I remember these from when you posted them on the Nlist and enjoy them as much now as I did then. Unfortunately, there are not a lot of posters that come here...especially around the holidays...seems that everyone now is more into "facebook" but sadly, posts don't remain there, easy to see for very long...as Dorothy said in the Wizard of Oz..."Things come and go so quickly here"...So, keep up the posts, you have at least one loyal reader!

Aha! If I am not writing into the wind, I can plug away here. Good to hear from you again. "Swordid Fish" is pretty close to the Kazoo Kid's "Sordid Fish." Being on XYZrem, that attempt at humor didn't cause him total C, he just needed to hold onto a chair for a minute. I remember you and Ramon said nothing about the password, just gave me two miniature swordfish.

I will send my new story purley soon. I call it "Still Smokin'" which title is stolen from a couple of guys. Story is kinda fun because the backbone of it is true (as are some of the other stories). Since N has a bit of familial connection (my uncle was a PWN) I wonder about great grandaddy. Cataplexy seems to read between the lines where it is reported, in the story in Granddad the Great's obituary, that he was unable to help with the horse because he was laughing.